Ciara Blakeshore didn't plan on getting fired from the New York City public relations agency she had practically built.

She also didn't plan on flying to Taribou Island, a little-known hamlet tucked away in the Caribbean near Turks and Caicos, to lick her wounds and repair her mangled pride. But she had, and she was glad she did. While in the Caribbean, on a whim, she decides to stay and take a shot at making the tropical paradise her home. But there was one caveat to being able to remain on the island long-term: she needed residency.

Ciara knew she could get legal status one of three ways: by getting a job; by marrying a local; or, by starting her own business.

The first two were out the window. There was no way she was working on anybody’s job -- ever again – especially after what had happened in Manhattan. And getting married would require a husband, and that was simply nowhere on the radar. Her life was a complete and utter mess, and the absolute last thing on her mind was finding a man.

The third option seemed to be the best: starting a business. And that’s exactly what she set out to do.

But when she meets the handsome Gunnar Davenport, emotions run high, passion is in the driver’s seat, and her life takes another unexpected turn. The owner of Taribou Moon Oceanside Resort and Spa, Gunnar has his own plan of action for the feisty, irresistible Ciara Blakeshore. And settling down as the wife of the Caribbean’s most prominent business owner, who has his own sorted past, may be closer than she realizes.

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BOOK EXCERPT

A week later, Ciara was sitting in the lobby area of the office complex of the Taribou Moon Resort waiting to meet with Gunnar Davenport. PAMELA MORRIS. That’s what the name plate on the assistant’s desk read.

“Thank you, Pamela,” Ciara said, continuing the charade as if she knew the woman from perhaps a previous office visit with Gunnar.

The older lady with the short, salt-and-pepper afro peered at Ciara over thick eyeglasses. She politely gestured for her to take a seat on the leather couch near her desk.

“Mr. Davenport will be right out,” she said. “Can I offer you some coffee or tea while you wait?”

“No, no, I'm fine, but thank you,” Ciara said, pulling a folder from her briefcase as she sat down.

After just a little while, Gunnar Davenport strode into the lobby.

Unmistakable. It was the same perfect man she’d seen running on the beach.

His tall, strapping form was clad in dark linen slacks, a white t-shirt, and wide leather sandals. Up close, chiseled features, perfectly tanned skin, and a dark, wily mane made him more striking.

Feeling suddenly hot, wobbly, and overdressed in her formal business attire, Ciara swallowed hard and tried to find her voice. Her lilac linen suit consisted of a skirt that landed comfortably above the knee. The cropped jacket plunged slightly to reveal an enticing, yet respectable, peek at her curvaceous bosom. Pearls, a couple of pieces of strategically placed jewelry, and square-toed heels accessorized her nine-to-five Manhattan attire.

“Good morning,” Gunnar said, letting his eyes discreetly rake over this ravishing woman from head to toe.

She looked too young to have any day-time business with him. And she was no island girl; he instinctively knew that. A salesperson? Hardly. She didn't have that look about her. Maybe she was there to apply for the Marketing Director’s position after all. But Pamela had said the meeting was not an interview.

Why had she come to Taribou Moon to see him? Whatever the reason, Gunnar was pleasantly surprised to see the woman standing before him.